


Five Times Legolas Watched Gimli Sleep and One Time He Didn’t

by FurryBigProblem



Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Fluff and Crack, Implied Sexual Content, Light Angst, Multi, Translation in English
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-20
Updated: 2020-07-20
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:08:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25401370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FurryBigProblem/pseuds/FurryBigProblem
Summary: What the title says.Five times Legolas watched Gimli sleep and one time he didn’t.All six times Aragorn was exasperated.Five serious snippets and one crack.
Relationships: Aragorn | Estel/Arwen Undómiel, Gimli (Son of Glóin)/Legolas Greenleaf
Comments: 6
Kudos: 170
Collections: LOTR: Gigolas





	Five Times Legolas Watched Gimli Sleep and One Time He Didn’t

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [五次勒苟拉斯看着金雳睡觉，一次他没有](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18963196) by [FurryBigProblem](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FurryBigProblem/pseuds/FurryBigProblem). 



**1\. Moria**

Boromir wakened Aragorn. It was his turn to take watch. The Gondorian man slipped into his bedroll as the Ranger sat up and looked around. The other members of the Fellowship were all sleeping in various positions – even the wizard seized the chance to rest – except one. In the darkness of Moria, the elf’s luminous skin made him look like a restless ghost.

“Legolas, my friend,” Aragorn said in quiet Sindarin, “Why do you not rest?” He did not even spread his bedroll and only crouched, statue-like, near Gimli, as though anticipating a sudden attack, his eyes fastened upon the sleeping dwarf. “Or rather I should ask, why are you staring at Gimli so?”  


“Oh, he is well,” the elf did not look up. “I merely…”  


Having waited and received no further explanation, Aragorn had to ask, “Merely what?”

The elf shrugged. “He has always such a stern countenance, as if he approves of nothing and nothing endears to him. But now that he sleeps, his face softens. I saw and was astonished of the difference. I cannot be sure if it is the dimness of the light or if what men say is actually true – that sleep can make kind the harshest of faces.”

Aragorn processed this for a moment and sighed. “Even the thorny undergrowth blossoms when the warm wind blows, but can you say it is the wind that creates the flowers? They have already been growing inside the branches far before its arrival, only that you cannot see them, or know not how to. The son of Gloin cannot be compared to the crawling and prickly thorns, for he is an honourable dwarf despite his stubbornness. I would not say you bear all the faults between the two of you, but if you can really observe him, you may find him different from what you imagine him to be.”

Legolas looked back at him with a slight frown.

“Rest, my friend. It will be your turn soon enough.”

**2\. Lothlorien**

When he first glimpsed the elvish face from between the branches, he imagined for a second that it was Arwen he saw. It must have been the place – being in Lothlorien again has triggered his fantasies. It was only Legolas sitting with his arms around his knees beside a sleeping Gimli.

Aragorn was puzzled. Their relationship had improved much ever since they came to Lothlorien. Recently, it could even be called friendly. Everyday Legolas would seek out Gimli and wander the woods with him. Sometimes the slim wrist of the elf could be seen resting casually on one broad dwarvish shoulder when they return to the Fellowship in the afternoons. But now Aragorn found Legolas watching the dwarf again as he did in Moria. “Legolas, are you still studying the changes sleep brings to a face? I thought you no longer think him harsh?”

Legolas looked up, unsurprised by his presence. “No,” he admitted calmly.”I was indeed pondering the changes in his face, but it is unrelated to sleep.” he looked back down at the dwarf, watching the latter’s beard quiver with every breath. “I just wonder, how could I think such a friend’s face stern and harsh?”

Aragorn smiled. “My friend, would you be terribly offended if I say that is because you have matured?”

**3\. Near Rohan**

Aragorn pulled at his cloak when he turned over. He blinked instinctively in his half-awake state and did not realise what he was seeing for a moment. When he did, he could not help but feel a tad irritable. That elf, has he somehow developed a habit?

“Legolas,” he mumbled, knowing vaguely that he had jumbled the syllables into one incomprehensible mess. “Safe… no need for watch…sleep…tired…”

Legolas gave a slight start. “What? Ah, yes, go back to sleep. I am all right.” He looked back down at Gimli, a strange smile at his lips.

Aragorn wrapped his cloak more tightly around himself and closed his eyes. He imagined he heard talking, something like “Such endurance and stamina, who would have thought.” But the next moment he sank once more into a dreamless sleep. When the sun rose and the chase began again, the one moment’s folly in the previous night had been forgotten.

**4\. Helm’s Deep, after the battle**

They had to lay the injured on the floor or seat them against the walls. Bandages and medicine were both limited, the only unlimited supply being his yet unknown hands of the king. Gimli insisted that he needed no treatment, but eventually the pleading eyes of Legolas made the dwarf concede grudgingly, allowing Aragorn to check his wound once the Rohanion soldiers were taken care of. When he was finally finished, he found his friends in a corner. The wall beside them was damaged during the battle. The afternoon sunlight poured over the broken wall and enveloped the elf and dwarf in a golden haze. Legolas sat on the floor with his back against a wall, while Gimli lay with his head on his lap, asleep. Legolas’ long fingers unconsciously stroke the other’s tangled beard. In the sunlight, it looked as if he was touching a sheet of flame.

Aragorn did not know how much the elf knew about dwarven culture – a dwarf’s beard could only be touched by a lover or their parents.

Legolas appeared melancholy but calm. He had immediately turned pale when he heard Gimli did not retreat with them. He said he wanted to compare his score with the dwarf and his eyes were trained on the outer wall in such a way he seemed eager to jump outside and seek for Gimli. After the battle, when the separated forces rejoined each other, Legolas had shot forward before Aragorn could see the dwarf among all the tall Rohanions. When he caught up following their voices, they were already in each other’s arms.

Aragorn approached them. Loathe as he was to break the peaceful moment, he had to check upon Gimli’s injury. Legolas turned to him with haunted eyes. Aragorn smiled comfortingly and woke Gimli.

**5\. Near the Black Gate, the night before the battle**

Aragorn approached the tent shared by Gimli and Legolas. The faint firelight within projected the elf’s silhouette on the canvas. He lifted the flap and quietly entered. The elf did not look up.

“Legolas,” he said, a slight reproach in his low voice, “you should be resting.

Legolas shook his head in a rarely seen stiff manner. He held a whetstone in one hand, a white knife lying by his legs. He had already whetted the knife and was just fidgeting with the stone.

Aragorn placed a hand on his shoulder. The latter leaned into the touch as if seeking for warmth.

“Legolas, my friend, you should rest.” He repeated with a gentler tone.

Again Legolas shook his head. “I would like to watch him.” he murmured, his voice barely audible, “I…” He paused, knuckles white around the whetstone. He did not continue for a long while. Then, after a deep breath, “I am afraid.”

Aragorn knew he did not mean the war, nor death. No explanation was necessary. They both understood – the elf just wanted to watch his dwarf when there was still time, just in case this was his last chance. Aragorn completely understood. After all, he himself wished he could see Arwen, on last time before tomorrow. He knew not how to comfort the other, and only squeezed the tense shoulder under his hand.

Gimli gave a groan, and a broad hand emerged from under the blanket and rubbed his face. “Still up, elf?” he slurred.

“Gimli –” Legolas broke off.

Gimli grumbled something and then sighed. “Stop bothering Aragorn. Sleep.”

Getting no response from Legolas, he stretched out an arm. “C’mere.” he said around a yawn and wriggled his fingers, “You bothersome elf.”

Legolas looked flabbergasted, but nonetheless moved aside his knives and scooped close to gingerly lay his head on Gimli’s shoulder. Without opening his eyes, the dwarf pulled the elf against himself, and fell back into sleep seconds after.

Struggling to keep a straight face, Aragorn gave Legolas’ hocked face one last look and exited the tent. He peeked inside when his had finished his round around the camp and once again passed his friends’ tent. The fired had gone out. The sound of Gimli’s deep, even breathing rolled about the tent. He had one hand around Legolas’ waist. And Legolas, his golden head on the dwarf’s shoulder, had long entered the open-eyed sleep of the Eldar.  
The next day, when they gathered their warriors, the elf was wearing dwarven braids in his hair, and the dwarf also had elven patterns woven into his beard.

**+1. Ithilien, after the Ring War**

Arwen could not stop her giggling. Her soft body vibrated on their shared bed. The movement even made the Silvan treehouse shake. As a Man used to the ground and stone structures, Aragon did not particularly enjoy this experience.

“Arwen, my love,” he gave his wife a push, “What is the matter?” He wiped a laugher-induced tear off her face. “Give this poor, simple Man some information. Let me in on the joke.”

Arwen gasped and made to answer, but seemed to hear something which set her off again. She buried her face in a pillow.

Aragorn sighed. Slightly worried that she might suffocate, he removed the pillow and saw his usually serene wife red with laughter. “Legolas – Gimli –” was the only words she could form.

What on Middle Earth were they doing? He wondered irritably. He came to visit the Lord of Ithilien with his queen and found the Lord of Aglarond had arrived on the same day. Reasonably he expected a good reunion of old friends. However, the moment they had done talking business, he felt as though he had stopped existing, and could not do much other than to watch as the other two pretended not to be flirting. Having suffered through dinner, he escaped with Arwen back to their guest rooms, and soon found himself in this weird situation. He decided to see for himself what Legolas and Gimli were doing again. He got up, put on a coat, and, despite Arwen’s breathless words (“don’t go – they – ha ha”), made his way to the closely situated Lord’s chambers.

He crossed a narrow path woven with tree branches, climbed down a rope ladder, and froze half a tree away from the entrance.

Who could guess that Legolas could be so loud as to drown out the dwarf’s voice. He had wondered why the nearby trees were uninhabited.


End file.
